


Fuego

by Mayamali



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Alternate Universe - Demons, Emetophobia, Eventual Romance, Gen, Injury, Magic, Maybe - Freeform, it's highboom, tags will update as the story continues, there's a fire motif, who am I kidding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-07-29 20:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayamali/pseuds/Mayamali
Summary: Five years ago, a demon known as the Reaper destroyed everything Jesse McCree had ever known and loved. Now a full-fledged demon hunter and with his own personal demon to back him up, he'll stop at nothing to get his revenge.Happy Halloween 2018!





	1. Hellfire

The ground stretched out in front of him. He was laying on the floor of a wet and dark forest, and the sky was on fire above him. A dark, unnatural voice said something above him.  He had  just made out “I know you aren’t _this_ weak” before a boot connected to his ribs and he  was kicked  onto his back, gasping for breath  .

Oh. Right. He’d been fighting the Reaper. The same Reaper that was looking down on him with an air of disappointment and boredom. “Get up,” he said, the eye sockets of his skull-like mask burning like embers.

He tried to. He tried sitting up, but the sharp pain in his chest informed him that he had a cracked rib. When he settled back onto the ground, the Reaper lifted up a boot and stomped it down on his chest.  He screamed in pain, hearing more ribs creaking under the weight, and  was silenced  as he found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun . “Pathetic.”

The fire raged around them. He could see the town burning  just  beyond the Reaper’s frame and knew he had failed. He closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

He was instead met with the faint popping of gunfire and the Reaper grunting in pain. And then the shotgun went off.  There was a burning pain in his stomach and he cried out again, rolling to his side once the boot on his chest raised up and away  .  He could hear what sounding like cloth flapping  violently  in the wind, and then the approaching sound of footsteps before everything went black.

He woke up to the sound of a slamming door. Groaning, he covered his eyes from the faint light he could feel shining on his face. “Oh, great, you’re alive.”  There was a thud of something dropping to the ground nearby, and he finally opened his eyes to see Sombra standing at his side  . “Now you can tell me what the _hell_ you were thinking.”

Sombra, fellow demon hunter and begrudging partner. They didn’t always agree or even get along, but they worked too well together to part ways now. Besides, she set him straight whenever he overextended. Like now, he supposed.

“Hi, Sombra,” he croaked, struggling to sit up. His chest burned and it was hard to breathe, but he managed to get somewhat upright. Something deep inside of him churned, sending a fiery pain through his veins. Hellfire residue. That was the last thing he needed right now.

Meanwhile, Sombra had crossed her arms, glaring at him and shaking her head. “Taking on the Reaper by yourself - you’ve done some idiotic things in the past, Jesse, but that hit a new low.”  She trailed off to listing all the ways he was stupid,  eventually  completely switching to Spanish to ream him out, but he wasn’t listening . Jesse was focusing, reaching out to the thing that hid in his reflection and lurked behind his back.

‘Jamison?’ he thought to the ether, brows furrowing in concentration.  There wasn’t much of an answer at first, but Jesse  eventually  heard a faint ‘fwip!’ sound, like someone striking a match . He took that as a sign - his personal demon was nearby. ‘It’s okay. Come on back now.’

Sombra had trailed off, sitting at the foot of Jesse’s bed and staring at him until he focused back on the world around him . “Calling Jamie?” She sighed, pulling down her hood and rubbing her face, smearing the dark streaks of face paint on her cheeks. “I tried to patch you up as best as I could, but I couldn’t do anything about the hellfire. ”

Jesse grimaced as he shifted. “I couldn’t - I couldn’t  just  let him go this time. This is the closest I’ve ever gotten to putting that sonnuva bitch down.”

“And you  nearly  died from it. If I hadn’t been there...” Sombra furrowed her brow, shaking her head. “Well. Vaswani gives me enough trouble, I don’t need Jamie on my ass about you.”

A warm breeze blew through the room. This was odd, considering all the windows  were shut  and it was the middle of October. The warmth focused on the hearth, then disappeared. Jesse heard a whisper in the back of his mind: ‘Fire.’

“Sombra - start a fire, would ya?”

She rolled her eyes and stood, heading to the hearth and waving away a spot of air before crouching down to start putting wood into the hearth . The warm breeze returned, settling around Jesse and enveloping him like a blanket. It helped a little. “Thanks,” he said, unaware it was out loud until he saw Sombra look at him from over her shoulder and give him a dry smile. “You too.”

It didn’t take long for the fire to start. And as Sombra stepped away, it started to roar, far more than it should with the amount of wood she put in. Jesse watched as it turned a blood red color,  mildly  awed; he never got over this part. A dark shape took form in the flames,  eventually  bursting out in the shape of a hand that clawed at the floor. And then another hand, made of metal that burned red hot before cooling into black as it materialized.  The hands dug in and pulled, and Jamison crawled out of the fire, flames licking at his body until he stood upright and shook them off like a dog in water.

“There he is,” Jesse said, trying to sound chipper as he reached out his metal arm.

Jamison wasn’t too impressive of a demon; red skin, bright yellow eyes, two dark horns that curled up and back over his head . One leg was gone from the knee down, replaced with a peg, and the other leg was barefoot. When Jesse had first met him, he’d claimed to be a former tier one, and Jesse could see some of that power in his frame. But that was before. Now, he was Jesse’s companion, the demon he’d made a deal with to gain his abilities as a demon hunter.

Now Jamison, bless him, hobbled over to take his hand, steam raising into the air from the temperature difference . “Christ, mate,” the demon said, blinking at him with wide eyes. “You got a death wish or somethin’?”

“Nah.  Just  overestimated myself. Can you check the damage?”

Jamison sighed, dropping Jesse’s hand to start feeling down his chest.  His hands were  uncomfortably  warm at first, making Jesse squirm a little at the bright red marks they left as they searched  .  Eventually  , they stopped where Jesse had  been shot  and then  quickly  pulled away. “Jess,” Jamison said, brushing his hands over his hair. “What the hell’d you fight?”

Jesse waved his hand before Sombra could answer and said, “Minor-league MVP.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Jesse. This’s got some serious energy. Second-tier, at least.”

As dull as Jamison could be sometimes, he could also be  frustratingly  smart. Jesse sighed, looking away. ”...He’s called the Reaper.”

“The - christ, Jesse -” Jamison twitched every time he said ‘christ’, but it didn’t stop him. Old habits died hard, he claimed. “The Reaper? Everyone knows that bloke! Would be third tier if he wasn’t such an asshole about it. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Didn’t want anythin’ bad happening to you,” Jesse mumbled  honestly  , looking away so he wouldn’t have to look at the way Jamison’s eyes flared  affectionately . “I thought I had it handled. What’s the damage?”

“Well - physical stuff’s mostly taken care of, looks like, but demonic buckshot doesn’t mess around. Best thing’s for me to absorb the residual hellfire, but even then, it’ll be a few days.”

“A few days?” Jesse looked back up at that, sitting straight in alarm. “We don’t got that kinda time. He’s gonna strike again, and we’re not gonna be fast enough to save the next town.”

“Well, a few days is the best we can do without either killin’ ya or overloading me.”

Jesse sighed, knowing full well Jamison had a point. If Jamison absorbed too much of energy of this caliber too fast, they’d risk him becoming feral. Or, worse yet, Jesse wouldn’t be able to compensate the loss and would die a slow death. Neither of which sounded particularly appealing. “Okay. We’ll... shack up here tonight, start travelling again tomorrow. He’s workin’ his way up the coast, and we can drain wherever we settle at night.”

Jamison glanced back at Sombra, furrowing his brows as though he needed to hear her approval. Sombra mused over it for a second, then nodded. “It’d be best if you rested the entire time but we should get moving. As long as you don’t push yourself.”

Jesse nodded, settling back into the bed with a grunt of pain.  Jamison scrambled forward to put his flesh hand on Jesse’s forehead, and Jesse felt himself relax at the comfortable wave of warmth that washed over him . “Could use some food before anything else.”

Sombra laughed  quietly . Jesse could hear her move further away. “It’s going to have to be the usual.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Is she gonna make the thing with the rabbit?” Jamison whispered to Jesse. He opened his eyes to see the demon staring at Sombra  hungrily . “I love that stuff.”

“Rabbit’s all we got out here.” Jesse patted Jamison’s metal arm, smiling at the happy and only  mildly  predatory grin on the demon’s face. “You’re livin’ the high life.”

“Hey, you ain’t gotta feed me at all.”

Rabbit stew was a staple of life on the road.  It was rare they’d find a place that didn’t have  just  a few too many rabbits around that no one would miss, and Sombra always carried spices from home to make it more tolerable . He’d come to associate it with comfort and a moment of respite from the hazards of their job. 

Jamsion sat next to him, devouring his share like his life depended on it. He was right;  technically , he only needed sustenance by leeching some of Jesse’s energy. But he’d confided that he missed eating real food, so Jesse made a point to let him share meals with them.

He got the distinct feeling that his relationship with Jamison bordered on unusual.  Sombra never seemed to consort with Vaswani unless it was  absolutely  necessary and didn’t seem to take too much delight in her company . But as strained as the relationship seemed, it worked well enough for them. For Jesse... well, Jamsion’s chaotic personality grew on him.

Once they’d finished their meal, Sombra collected their bowls. “Okay. I’ll leave you to it.”  She  silently  gave Jesse the signal that she always gave whenever she left them alone together . ‘Scream if it goes wrong.’

Jesse nodded back at her, waiting until she had stepped outside and closed the door behind her to slump back down to a lying position . “Be gentle,” he joked.

Jamison tittered  nervously  , crawling up to his side to let his fingers dance along the wound in Jesse’s stomach . “I’ll try, but it’s gonna burn like hell at first.”

“Great.” Jesse took a deep breath, jumping  slightly  at the warmth of Jamison’s hand when it finally pressed down.  That feeling traveled inward, relaxing him  just  a little in spite of the growing anxiety in his chest  .  And then it reached the residual energy of the Reaper’s buckshot, and that comforting warmth  quickly  grew hotter and more unbearable .

To Jamison’s credit, he never sugarcoated things. It hurt worse than getting shot in the first place, like liquid lava was pouring through his insides. He clutched at Jamison’s arm, unable to hold back a pained scream as the demonic energy flowed through him.  He could hear Jamison  frantically  hushing him, trying in vain to soothe him while unable to move his hands.

It went on for what felt like an excruciating century before Jamison  abruptly  severed the connection with a sharp gasp.  Jesse sobbed in relief, rolling onto his side to clutch his stomach, and the room felt oppressively silent without his screams. He forced himself to breathe as the burning faded to stinging.

He could feel Jamison’s presence, but it was so much stronger than before, enough to make him tense. Not quite tier-one level, but close. “Jamie?” he croaked, not wanting to open his eyes.

Jamison sighed and said, “I’m here. I’m - are you okay?”

“You weren’t kidding.” Jesse  slowly  rolled over again, eyes squeezed shut in pain as the stinging started to fade. “Goddamn.”

“He did a number on ya. Do - do ya need anything? What do you want from me?”

“Well, uh - asking you to numb it would  probably  defeat the purpose.” Jesse could still feel Jamison to his left,  practically  burning bright with energy. “  Maybe  you should get a fire goin’. Get rid of that excess.”

Jamison sighed again, his peg leg clicking on the wooden floor as he stood and started to shuffle more wood into the hearth  . Jesse opened his eyes  just  in time to see Jamison summon a fireball and hold it mid-air. It was far bigger than anything he’d ever conjured before,  nearly  the length and width of his chest.  Jesse watched, awed, as Jamison held it mid-air until it started to shrink to something more manageable, then chucked it into the hearth  .  Fire roared to life,  nearly  stretching beyond the stone well that contained it, but it  eventually  settled down .

“Damn,” Jesse mumbled as Jamison stepped back and fell onto the foot of the bed, taking deep breaths. “You okay?”

“That... felt awesome,” Jamison said after taking a moment to compose himself, looking at Jesse with a grin. “Should be nice and toasty tonight.”

“Thanks.” Jesse closed his eyes again. Despite himself, the warmth of the fire and the soft mattress underneath him started to lull him to sleep.  Eventually, he couldn’t fight it anymore, and the void of sleep claimed him.


	2. Inferno

Jesse McCree had been 32 when the Reaper came. He’d gone home to Santa Fe to check on his mother; apparently, she’d caught a nasty bug, and she needed some help around the house. And, well, she liked to make that chicken and coconut soup when she was sick and he’d been meaning to get the recipe from her.

He woke up in the guest room of his childhood home to smoke and gunfire. He was the only one to survive the inferno and massacre of his entire neighborhood, watching the Reaper’s dark form disappear into the flames.

Jesse never faulted the police. They honestly tried their best. But they eventually blamed the fire on faulty wiring with no explanation for the people who had taken the wrong end of a shotgun. Jesse had always had a profound sense of justice, and he’d be damned if he’d let this bastard get away with it. Just a little research opened his mind to the world of demons.

Demon hunters lived interesting lives. Working both above the law and in fear of it, always on the run and never the hero. Well, it sounded like the right kind of life for him. The only hang-up he’d had was the bond.

Humans were very rarely strong enough to fight a demon with their own power. Thankfully, that’s where exiles came in. No one knew when demons started to invade the human world, but for as long as they had, there had been others opposing them. And demon hunters could form bonds with these exiles to give them an advantage in battle, bestowing them with power beyond human limitation. But in Jesse’s eyes, a demon was a demon, and he refused to compromise with one of those _things_.

He lasted two years on his own. His luck had run out in Mexico, when a la llorona had gotten the better of him. Fortunately, he’d had his ass saved by another demon hunter who was after the bounty, a mysterious woman who simply called herself ‘Sombra’.

She’d agreed to train him more in demon hunting, insisting that it was normal for demon hunters to have mentors when first starting out. It had hurt his pride to admit that he could use the help, but fortunately, Sombra didn’t give him much choice, inserting herself into his life and complaining for every second of it.

He was able to hide his lack of bond for about a year, as he and Sombra mostly fought minor demons and ghosts and ghouls. But a fight with a tier one demon in Louisiana had shown what a disadvantage he was at. Sombra had been openly shocked that he could keep up as well as he did without a bond, but after that fight, he knew that he would either submit to custom or risk dying.

A pit stop in Utah had led him to Jamison by pure, dumb luck. Jesse was a force to be reckoned with on his own, but Jamison gave him the edge he needed. A six-shooter was nice. A six-shooter that could fire molten bullets of demonic energy was even better. And with these new resources, Jesse figured he could at least stand a chance against the Reaper.

Except he couldn’t. When the Reaper had struck, he hadn’t had time to call Jamison and only barely been able to warn Sombra. He’d thought that with the training, he could wear the Reaper down. But he’d been dead wrong. The Reaper’s raw power overwhelmed him in minutes, and it had almost cost him his life.

The one thing that kept him determined was an index card in his wallet with a hand-written recipe for chicken and coconut soup. He still hadn’t had a chance to make it.

He was tempted to when he woke up at daybreak and stumbled into the bathroom to vomit. He could see streaks of hellfire residue swirling in the toilet bowl as he flushed it. ‘Well,’ he thought bitterly, spitting in to the sink and wiping his mouth. ‘Less work for Jamie.’

Jamison was gone when he wandered back to his bed. Probably doing... demon things. Jesse didn’t really pry into what Jamison did when he wasn’t on-call, as long as he didn’t get himself into trouble. The fire had long died out, and the chill of the early morning settled into his bones, and he wanted nothing more than to go into town and raid a grocery store to make some soup.

But he didn’t. Instead, he crawled under the covers and curled up, pressing against his stomach wound as though it would calm the turbulent storm in his stomach.

Sombra used a strangely gentle hand in rousing him from slumber to pack up so they could move on a few hours later. He sensed that she was going easy on him because of the extent of his injuries. As much as it wounded his pride, he allowed it just for the ease of it. They ate trail mix as they waited for the train to arrive and quietly climbed on top of the carriage to hitch a free ride.

He took the opportunity to catch a little more shut-eye, only waking when the train started to slow down and Sombra nudged him.

They settled into a hunter’s haven in Indiana, some isolated shacks where they could rest without worry. There was only one other hunter present that night, and Sombra gave them warning about the healing attempts.

“Is residue supposed to make you sick to your stomach?” Jesse asked as he settled into the bed, Jamison hovering over him.

“It... happens, I think,” Jamison answered honestly, scratching the back of his head. “Never seen corruption in person before, but maybe you’d naturally reject it.”

Jesse gestured between the two of them. “This isn’t considered ‘corruption’?”

“Nah, it’s more... what’s the word the Dragon used? ‘Symbiotic’? Yeah, symbiotic. Give and take.”

Jesse nodded, trying not to think too hard as Jamison finally put his hands on his stomach. The wound already looked better, but there was some unnatural-looking red marks stretching out from it. “Maybe - just a thought - maybe talkin’ might make it a little better, if you don’t mind. I know I’ve never asked, but where do you go when you leave?”

Jamison hummed quietly, starting to leech out the remaining hellfire as he answered. “I usually just wander. See what’s what around wherever we shack up. I like to sight-see.”

It didn’t hurt as much tonight as it had the previous night, but it still burned uncomfortably. Jesse tried his best not to squirm, but couldn’t hide a quiet hiss. “Ngh - you - you like the travelling, then?”

“Oh yeah. Always had a bit of that wanderlust in me.” Jamison furrowed his brow for a minute and averted his gaze. “I, uh. I will say... big thing I appreciate about this deal we’ve got goin’ on here. Never really had good company to get around with before this.”

Jesse tried to smile through the pain, but it came out as more of a grimace. “Glad you think we’re good company.”

“Could do without the Dragon. Couldn’t stand her in Hell and I can’t stand her now. Way too rigid. How you feelin’?”

The burn was getting more intense, enough that Jesse was losing focus on the conversation at hand. He grit his teeth and nodded, more out of stubborn pride than anything. “Hah - felt worse when my arm died on me.”

Jamison eyed him suspiciously, but kept leeching, his eyes lighting up like tiny fires the more energy he took. “You’re strong, Jess. Why do you gotta wait until you’re almost dead to ask for help?”

Jesse was silent, the pain starting to overtake him. His mother had always told him that he was too proud. He never did well asking for help. He took a deep breath and found the strength to lift his hand and squeeze Jamison’s wrist.

The transfer of energy stopped, but Jamison didn’t move his hands. Instead, he felt something start to pour into him. It was the comforting sort of warmth again, and he furrowed his brow, confused. “Jamie?”

Jamison hushed him, the fires in his eyes twinkling and dimming. Once the warmth had spread through Jesse just enough to make him feel like he could melt into the bed, Jamison pulled away, panting slightly from the exertion. “I - hoo. Turns out I... can convert that faster than I thought.”

Jesse had just enough time to sit up and catch Jamison as he slumped forward. “Whoa, there. Jamie?”

Jamison didn’t respond right away, instead curling his hands around Jesse’s back to hug him weakly. “Yeah? I’m good. I’m okay.”

“And y’all lecture _me_ about takin’ risks.” Jesse wasn’t quite sure what to do. He had to crane his neck in a position that was a little uncomfortable or Jamison’s horns would press into his cheek. How long do you hug a demon for? Is it normal to hug a demon? Definitely not. But it’s also not normal to converse with demons at all. “Thank you.”

“Mmhuh.” Jamison didn’t move.

“Are you gonna get off or am I gonna have to try and sleep with you layin’ on me?”

Finally, Jamison pulled away, laughing. Jesse could swear he sounded embarrassed as he said, “Sorry. That took a lot outta me. I wondered if there was a... time limit, I guess, for converting bad stuff into okay stuff.”

“Well, count this as a success. Warn me next time.”

Jamison scratched the back of his head, breaking eye contact to look towards the door. “You’re just about clean. If you don’t naturally blow out the rest, tomorrow should be the last of it.”

Jesse settled back into the bed. The warmth was calling to him to rest, and he was happy to oblige. “Great. Think I’m just about over this.”

He dozed off pretty quickly again, nuzzling under the blankets in a very undignified way. However, something was different tonight, namely in the panicked tug in the back of his mind. He woke up with a start to the sound of a scream.

He was dressed and out the door in minutes, Sombra bursting out of her shack just a few seconds later. “Hope you got a nice nap, Jesse,” she said, snapping a clip into her gun.

Another yell echoed through the forest, distinctly female and distinctly distressed. They ran in the direction of the noise, Jesse drawing his revolver, Peacekeeper, as they went. They stopped when they saw a figure running at them from the darkness at full speed, but it was the thing scurrying after it with an unnatural speed that held their attention.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Sombra pull out a bottle and take a swig of the liquid inside. Then, she grabbed a match from her side satchel, struck it, and blew into it, letting loose a stream of fire. From this fire, Vaswani the Dragon dramatically formed and erupted.

‘Dragon’ was more of a moniker than anything. Vaswani had a human frame and face, but she was covered in scales with a wicked-looking crest and horns sitting atop her head. She moved like a dancer, taking just a moment to examine the situation before pulling her hands to form spheres of molten fire that she threw towards the unnatural shape in the darkness.

The first figure - a human girl, he realized as she grew closer - screamed again and hit the ground, covering her head as the spheres went sailing over her, instead sticking to the trees to fire streams of lava at the thing behind them. This gave off just enough light for them to see a humanoid demon with vicious-looking claws and a mouth that almost took up the entire bottom half of its face. “Ugh,” Jesse said, unable to hide his disgust. “I’m not gettin’ any more sleep tonight.”

Sombra aimed and started to take fire, Vaswani moving to surround her with a translucent shield as she moved closer. Jesse lifted his left arm and clenched a fist, watching as it started to glow a bright orange. He’d just barely thought to summon Jamison from the embers of the fire. He heard Jamison whisper ‘Take it easy’ as the energy flowed.

He just needed enough to reload Peacekeeper, infusing each bullet with demonic energy before snapping the chamber shut and taking aim.

The demon shrieked, pouncing forward through the concentrated streams of Vaswani’s attack, only to be met with a bullet in the face. It fell back, crashing against a tree. “Stay down!” he yelled at the girl on the ground, stepping forward to keep taking carefully aimed shots at the demon.

Sombra held out her hand and yelled, “Vaswani, ¡ _a mi_!” He glanced over to see Vaswani nod and dissipate, forming a red glow around her hand. She focused on the demon, holding her hand steady until she fired. The glow shot from her hand and surrounded the demon, holding it in place as it tried to stand. “All yours, Jesse.”

The demon writhed and spat at him as he centered Peacekeeper on the center of its forehead. He waited only a second before firing, hitting it dead between the eyes. “Rest in peace,” he said as the demon stopped fighting, slumping forward before bursting into flame.

Vaswani re-appeared, looking thoroughly unimpressed even as Sombra moved towards the girl on the ground. The girl thrashed as Sombra touched her, rolling over onto her back and scrambling backwards against a tree. “Hey! It’s okay. It’s gone.”

The girl took quick, shallow breaths as she stared at the smoldering pile of ash. “Wh-what the hell was that? Who are you?”

Jesse holstered Peacekeeper, his arm dimming as he raised his hands in a peace offering. “I’m Jesse, that’s Sombra. We’re demon hunters. And that was a demon. What’s your name, darlin’?”

The girl stared at him in disbelief for a moment before shaking her head. “I - Brigitte. _Demon_?”

“Yeah. They exist. What are you doing out here, Brigitte?”

“I... camping. With some friends for break. I woke up to that _thing_...” Brigitte paused, her breaths becoming dangerously close to sobs as tears welled up in her eyes. “It was - it was _eating_ them.”

Jesse knelt down to gently take her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “Are you hurt at all?”

“N-no.”

“Alright.” Sombra crossed her arms, ignoring Vaswani as she cleared her throat insistently. “Does anyone know you’re out here?”

“I... no. All my family is home in Sweden.”

“We’ve got some shacks nearby. We can put you up for the night, keep you safe until morning. It’s dangerous to try and take you back to town now.”

Brigitte looked between the two of them, then stared at Vaswani, who was growing more impatient by the second. “What about her?”

“Yes,” Vaswani said, voice cold as she stared at Sombra. “What _about_ me?”

Sombra rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “You can go. Sorry to trouble you, your Highness.”

Vaswani scoffed. “I expect to be summoned for proper fights, not tierless _pests_.” With that, her figure flared bright orange and disappeared.

“Sorry about her.” Sombra held out her hand, helping Brigitte to her feet. “She’s not good with people. But she’s my partner, you don’t have to worry about her.”

They carefully made their way back to the haven, Sombra pulling out spare blankets from a communal locker outside as she laid out the plan to Jesse. “I’m going to go find her campsite, get her stuff. Keep an eye on her.”

“You sure you wanna go alone?”

“I’m a big girl, Jesse. I can take care of myself. But I’ll call if I need you.”

Jesse set up the stove to make some hot chocolate for Brigitte; not really his cup of tea, but that was the kind of thing people made for kids her age, right? “You’re from Sweden, huh?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

She nodded absently, taking a sip of the chocolate as she sat on the couch under a pile of blankets. “Yeah... I took up an exchange program for school.”

“What’re you studying?”

“Engineering.” She looked down into the mug. Her hair was a mess after her encounter with the demon, so Jesse took it upon himself to hunt down Sombra’s. Surely she wouldn’t mind. “Demons... and demon hunters... they’re real?”

“I could hardly believe it either.” He opened one of Sombra’s bags, scrounging around for anything that felt remotely like a hairbrush. “But yep. That one must’ve been desperate. They don’t usually attack groups alone like that.”

Brigitte was quiet, only looking up when Jesse found the brush and held it out to her. She whispered a thanks and set her mug down to brush her hair out, wincing at the tangles. “So... that lady with the fire?”

“Demon hunters form bonds with special kinds of demons. Gives us a better chance.”

“So do you have one, too?”

Jesse nodded, holding up his arm. “Jamison. He’s a little friendlier than Vaswani - the lady you met.”

“It’s hard to think that demons can be nice,” she said after a moment, curling up on the couch. “After... that thing. Should I call the police?”

Jesse frowned at that, looking away. ”Don’t think there’s a phone anywhere near here. We can drop you at the station in the morning.”

Brigitte lowered her gaze again. “Will they believe me?”

“Here’s what you do. Tell ‘em that you think it was the Seven Circles killer. They’ll know what it means.”

“Wait - the Seven Circles killer? That’s code?”

“Yup. You might imagine people would panic if they found out demons exist. Comin’ up with a code like that explains what happened and lets them know what actually happened.”

Brigitte shook her head, taking one last long drink of cocoa.

“You don’t need to tell ‘em about us in particular, either. Police don’t really like demon hunters all that much.”

“Okay...”

There was a knock at the door before Sombra stepped in carrying a duffel bag, setting it down on the floor. “I got your things - pretty sure it’s all intact, if you want to take a look.”

Brigitte looked at the bag, taking in a deep breath. “Maybe... in the morning. It’s just clothes and stuff.”

“Okay.” Sombra nodded at Jesse, who stood up with a sigh. “If you need anything, ask. I know this is a lot to take in.”

“Thank you.”

Jesse stepped outside and took a moment to listen to the woods around them. Nothing seemed out of place; the woods were alive with owls and the occasional wolf call. He stood out in the peaceful quiet for just a moment before retiring to his own bed.


	3. Brimstone

Brigitte was quiet as they led her into town early that morning. They left their weapons at the haven; the last thing they needed was to draw attention to themselves. “Seven Circles killer,” she repeated quietly as they stood with her outside the station.

“They should give you some resources on coping, too.” Jesse offered her his hand, which she took to receive a supportive squeeze. “I’m sorry about your friends.”

“Thank you again. Will you be coming back this way?”  


He glanced back at Sombra, who shrugged noncomittally. “Maybe. We get around.”

Brigitte nodded at them, pulling her hand away to hug herself in the cold. “I hope you do. Maybe we can meet under proper circumstances.” She gave them both a weak, tired smile before turning to head into the station.

They stopped at the general store for more snacks for the road. They ate some quick campfire meals as they planned their next move over a map in a park nearby. “The Reaper seems to have been heading north,” Sombra said, drawing a trail up from Tennessee to Indiana. “But I think we would’ve heard about him attacking by now.”

“Unless he’s savin’ up energy for a full assault again.”

“Probably. That means we might have more time to figure out where he’s going. He likes to target neighborhoods right outside of main cities.”  


“Hysteria, maybe? It’d be too hard for a single demon to wreck Nashville, but the little town fifteen minutes away? Easier to handle, close enough to raise concern.”

Sombra hummed, tapping her lip as she contemplated that. “That’s a good point. But why? The only thing I could think is -“  


“He’s pavin’ the way for somethin’ worse.”  


“Exactly.”

The prospect of something even bigger coming, something worse than the Reaper, made a pit form in Jesse’s stomach. “So maybe we take it easy for a bit until we pick up the trail again.”

Sombra nodded, rolling up the map. Her eyes were fixed on something over Jesse’s shoulder as she said, “Sounds good. But we should put some distance between us and this place.”  


Jesse glanced over his shoulder at a cop that was watching them intently, then looked back to Sombra with a nod. They quickly and quietly packed up and made their way back towards the woods, disappearing into the trees when the coast was clear.

They packed up their things and headed to the train station once again. They dropped off in Iowa, and managed to actually get a room in a hotel. There was no hearth; all nice and modern central heating here.

“You sure, Jesse? You don’t want to rough it out for one more night, just to be safe?” Sombra peered into the bathroom, doing an obligatory once-over of the room. Better safe than sorry.  


“Jamison said there isn’t much left, and it doesn’t hurt as much. Think it’ll be okay. Worst-case scenario is that people think we’re gettin’ busy.”  


Sombra rolled her eyes and tossed her spare keycard at him with a laugh. “In your dreams, McCree.”

It didn’t take nearly as long for Jamison to drain the rest of the hellfire residue. While it still burned, it was tolerable enough for him to hold a decent conversation. “Where you gonna go tonight?” he asked, letting his metal arm hang off the bed. When there wasn’t a fire available, Jesse would light his arm up to generate enough heat for him to manifest. Jamison didn’t  _ need _ fire to manifest, but it was easier for him that way.  


Jamison shrugged. “I dunno. Feel like it’s been a long time since we’ve been in a city. Might snoop around.” He pulled his hands away a little, raising them up to radiate warmth through his chest. Jesse sighed, feeling himself fully relax for the first time in three days.  


“Come back with all the hot gossip,” he said with a lopsided grin, settling back into the bed.

Jamison winked at him, then dissipated into smoke. Jesse watched the spot where he was standing for a moment before closing his eyes and drifting into a comfortable sleep.

Jamison lied.

Just little white lies, nothing that hurt anybody. Those kind of lies were okay. It  _ hadn’t  _ been a long time since he’d been in the city. Wherever they stopped, he wandered until he could find one just to scope out the area and see what he could find. Jesse had told him that it was okay for him to wander as long as he didn’t get into trouble. And he made sure not to get into...  _ too _ much trouble.

He stuck to the shadows, moving swiftly. It was easier for him to maintain a physical presence like this, and it was less suspicious. The city they were in now was quiet by his standards, and Jamison didn’t do ‘quiet’ very well. So he left little fires in garbage cans wherever he went, just for the little thrill of watching something burn.

He’d gotten close to the center of town when he felt something. Demonic energy in a quantity that should have been alarming, but instead drew his curiosity. His curiosity led him to a door in a dark alleyway with a neon sign above it that simply read ‘BRIMSTONE BAR’.

Any person with a sense of self-preservation would have been suspicious. Jamison was not one of these people. So he slid in underneath the door. Immediately, he saw that most, if not all, of the patrons of the bar were not human. So he gathered his energy to take a physical form and moved towards the bar.  


The bartender nodded at him, not surprised by his appearance. “What’re you having?” he asked.  


Jamison shrugged. “Whatever you think I’d like.” The bartender eyed him up and down for a moment before grabbing a glass. Jamison took the time to scout the bar. Mostly demons, a few ghosts and other night-time nasties. “This a haven, then?”  


“Yeah - sanctuary, more like. Never seen you around before.”  


“I’m passin’ through. Didn’t know these kind of places existed.”

The bartender placed the glass on the table, sliding it towards Jamison; a short glass with a red liquor and some kind of black powder rim. The drink itself was a little sweet, and he realized that the rim was charcoal powder. He gave the bartender a thumbs up and pulled a $10 out of the satchel on his belt. Jesse had given it to him a long time ago, ‘just in case’.  


“Yeah,” the bartender said, taking the money with another nod. “You must be a newbie. Or you’re bonded.”

Jamison paused in his appreciation of the drink. ”...Is it gonna be trouble if I am?”  


“Only if you plan on bringing your hunter in to ransack the place. Wouldn’t be the first time.”  


“Nah. My guy’s cool.” Jamison took another drink, taking a proper seat at the bar. It seemed like a quiet night, but he thought that it might be worth it to ask. “Soooo if I wanted to get information on somethin’, would this be a good place to ask?”  


“Depends. What’re you looking for?”

Jamison lowered his voice a little. “The Reaper?”

The bartender huffed at him, shaking his head. “For real? Listen, if you’re looking for trouble -“  


“No, not at all!” Jamison held up his hands. “Just curious is all.”

The bartender eyed him again for a moment before sighing. “Back corner, your right. There’s a banshee back there. Go ahead and look, she’s already staring at you.” Jamison hesitated before glancing behind him. Sure enough, there was a gaunt, ethereal-looking woman staring at him from a corner table, sipping from a tall glass. “Her name’s Moira. She’ll be your best bet.”

“Ta.” Jamison raised his drink in thanks and stood up, casually strolling towards the banshee.

He didn’t even get a chance to say anything before she gestured to the seat next to her. “Bold of you to ask about someone like the Reaper,” she said, sounding almost amused. Her accent was distinctly Irish, but that was pretty par for the course for a banshee. “Why do you want to know about him?”  


“We doin’ full disclosure?” Jamison took another drink. He could barely taste the alcohol; the bartender had read him like a book. “My hunter’s lookin’ for him.”  


“Hah - you’re a  _ committed _ bonded demon.” Moira tapped her long nails on the table, multi-colored eyes seeming to stare through him. “I don’t know where he’s going. But I can tell you why he’s here.”  


Jamison raised his brow, but said nothing.  


“He’s working with someone. Do you know Akande Ogundimu?”

Well, shit. Jamison set his drink on the table, unable to hide his shock. “Noooo. You serious? Reaper’s workin’ for Akande?”

“Humans have taken to calling him ‘Doomfist’.” Moira cracked a smile at the undignified snort that Jamison gave her. “Say what you will about humankind, but they need to work on their ability of naming things.”

“Too right. Why’s Doomy got the Reaper mowin’ down neighborhoods?”

“That, I’m not sure of. But there are more involved than just those two. I’ve heard the Widowmaker is involved as well.” Moira shifted in her seat, taking another drink as Jamison took in this information. The Reaper working for someone like Akande only meant trouble of a massive scale. He hadn’t personally met Akande, but he’d heard the stories: a tier three with incredible amounts of ambition and a lack of remorse that made him a shining example of what Hell had to offer. Jamison wasn’t surprised he’d be plotting something.  


And the Widowmaker - well. Jamison didn’t really know anything about that, but if there was a ‘the’ in front of the name, it meant that they were important, too.

“You get around, huh?” he finally asked. After a second in which she just raised an eyebrow, he stammered to clarify, “I-I mean, you know a lot about what Akande’s up to.”

“Just as there are sanctuaries for exiles, there are places where hell-bounds gather. And I am good at not being noticed.” Moira finished her drink and stood, skin shimmering as she gave up her corporeality. “Tell your hunter to use caution.”  


Jamison nodded as she disappeared into a wisp of fog. Well, he hadn’t found out where the Reaper was going, but he’d found out a motive, sort of. He drained the rest of his glass and stood, giving the bartender a wave as he headed for the door... only to be stopped as it swung open and nearly hit him in the face.  


“Oh - sorry, I -” The man that had stepped through the door stopped, staring at Jamison for a moment. At least, he  _ thought _ he was staring; his face was covered with scarves. “Jamison?”  


Jamison blinked, peering at the stranger. The man held up a finger and pulled the scarves away to reveal a wicked-looking mask with horns jutting from its forehead and cheeks. There was a distinctly Asian flair - “Holy shit! Genji?”  


Genji held his arms out, and Jamison happily hugged him as tightly as he could. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said when they pulled away, hands on Jamison’s shoulders.

“Yeah - what’re you doin’ here? This - hold on.” Jamison pulled Genji back to the corner table so they’d stop blocking the front door. “You’re a long ways from Nepal, Genji.”  


Genji rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh. “My master told me that I was getting complacent. He suggested I return to see how far I’ve come and what I’m fighting for.”  


“How is Zenny?”

“Good. I think he’s starting to miss you.”  


Jamison sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I know. Jesse got a little messed up the other day and I’ve been busy helpin’ him. I’ll try and sneak off to visit soon.”

“We’ll leave a fire going for you. What happened?”

Jamison told Genji everything; about the Reaper’s attack, Jesse’s injuries, the demon in the forest, Brigitte, the banshee - everything. The more he spoke, the more he felt at ease. Genji was always good at that.

He could still remember the moment they met, seven years after Jamison had been exiled. He was wandering the world and found himself at a monastery in Nepal. And of course he felt obligated to haunt it. Even if he wasn’t officially hell-bound anymore, he had needed a distraction.

He had set the tapestries on fire and reveled in the fear of the monks as they evacuated when he’d heard a voice to his right. “What is the purpose of frightening them so?” the voice had said, cold and tinny.  


Jamison had stood with a start, looking for the source of the noise and finding none. “Gotta get my kicks somehow,” he’d said, trying to sound tough about it. “And it’s better than nothing.”  


“There’s more to this world than causing chaos. And if that is your sole reason for coming here, then allow me to show you the mistake you have made.”  


In seconds, Jamison was on the floor with the point of a sword aimed at his throat. Genji had stood above him, not even showing any minor signs of exertion. Jamison had fought back, of course, using his teeth and fists and legs, but Genji was faster. And, more importantly, he was armed. “Fine,” Jamison finally spat, raising his hands in defeat. “Not like there’s anythin’ left for me these days.”

Genji didn’t move, looking down on him through the demonic mask. “Hell is nice this time of year, if I remember.”

Jamison laughed, tasting brimstone on his busted lip. “Not if you’re gonna get your head chopped off if you go back.”  


“You’re an exile.”  


“Guilty as charged.”  


For another moment, Jamison thought that this was it. All because he set some tapestries on fire. But Genji drew his sword away and extended a hand instead. “Well. That changes things.”

He’d led Jamison to his master, a monk named Tekhartha Zenyatta. The two of them fixed him up and offered him a place to stay in exchange for some lessons in self-control. Demons had an innate desire to destroy, but with a little mindfulness and meditation, it was surprisingly easy to suppress. That was how Genji lived, one of the few demons who bonded with someone besides a demon hunter.

Unfortunately, the life was too quiet for Jamison. He needed excitement. But even bonded to Jesse, he found some down-time to come back to Nepal to check in and take a moment for himself.

Now, Genji sat, quietly contemplating what Jamison had told him. “The Reaper,” he mused, voice intrigued. “It seems you truly have found your perfect match in a bond.”

Jamison felt his cheeks heat up just a little, and he stood up. “Shut up.”

Genji laughed quietly. “Well. Feel free to track me down. I wouldn’t mind having someone to make sure I don’t get into  _ too _ much trouble.”

“Trouble usually finds  _ me _ . Take care of yourself, Genji.” Jamison winked at him before heading for the door again. He gave him one last look before heading out into the alley, taking to the shadows once more.

He spent the rest of the night in the park, throwing pebbles at couples making out in the grass. Snacks ruined a meal, but it’s not like he had anything better to do.  


The sun was coming up and Jesse was still fast asleep when he returned to the hotel room, but he stirred as Jamison turned the television on. “Jamie?” he asked, voice deep from sleepiness.  


“Yep. I can turn this off it it’s buggin’ you.”  


Jesse just grumbled incoherently and fell silent. Jamison glanced back to see that he’d gone back to sleep. Jamison rolled his eyes with a smile and turned back to the TV, flipping through shopping networks and old comedy shows.


End file.
